Why I Want to Go to Columbia Law School Forum

[ggcls]

Disclaimer: The formatting on this essay is not optimal. Because of the forum's restrictions the footnotes come out rather crudely, the typesetting is weak, and the formatting (italics, etc.) is all gone. Forgive these aesthetic discrepancies please. Thanks.

Why I Want to Go to Columbia Law School: An Essay in Three Parts by [Redacted – Candidate ####]:


“Greed is Good” – Gordon Gekko


Part 1: First Comes the Money. [1]

I want to go to Columbia Law School for one reason plain and simple: I want money. I don’t think this should come as yeahany surprise to you my gracious reader.[2] After all, if I wanted to be a judge then this would read “Why I Want to Go to Yale Law.” If I wanted to help some poor, suffering urchins that cling to the bottom of the American Industrial Steamship then I would probably either (A) not be going to law school and instead go to a Sociology Master’s Program so that I could spend the next 8 years pissing and moaning to (who else but!) lawyers about how no one actually does anything for these poor, unfortunate souls (so sad; so true)[3] or[4] (B) go to a worse law school that would give me a scholarship because I’m sure I could out-compete the low lives at a Michigan or a Texas and then still land a comfy little position with the SPLC.

So, as I was saying, I want to go to Columbia mostly to secure a nice job at a prestigious firm in order to maximize my earnings. The average salary coming out of Columbia is easily going to break 150,000 and will have benefits including, but not limited to: overtime pay, free lunches and dinners, car rides home, discounts at gyms (if not a free gym), vacation time and an excuse to wear clothing that serves no purpose to this day other than to remind us that we are the elite and they (oh that proverbial they!) in their clearance rack Polos and Izod slacks are nothing but the filth clinging to the tire treads on my BMW 7 series. All I have to do for this money is endure 3 years of lectures that pretend to teach me ‘theory’ about a ‘system’ of ‘justice.’[5] Then I just sit around in an air-conditioned building and do fairly mindless research for however many hours a week. If I might add at this point, and I don’t put this in a footnote to stress its relevance: the idea that lawyers work hard because they work a lot is an absurdity and logical fallacy which these spoiled children of divorcees and adulterers seem to revel in. I, however, don’t live under this illusion (blatant egotism darling) and so don’t consider the circumstances of the post-law-school-grad particularly dire.

In conclusion, [6] dear reader, I simply want wealth. But why? I have been happy with what I’ve had. What benefit will a more luxurious car or nicer clothing give me? It seems that taking on exponentially more work (in units of time) for presumably marginally better goods (in units of extra luxury) would defy economic intuition.[7] So from whence does money’s utility stem? Well for that we turn to the next section.


Part 2: Then Comes the Power.

To answer the question of “why money?” we need to look at power and social power projection in the United States of America. I went to Michigan for undergraduate study and so, in the grand tradition of Tom Hayden, you can appreciate how much of this was crammed down my throat. I learned one important thing: I am already white; I am already male; I am already a heterosexual. Life sucks for the rest, but as long as I add wealth to the preceding list, I can compensate for the hooknose (God of Abraham; follow?) and attain power.

Columbia Law School would uniquely position me to attain power. But what’s power? Power, my friend, for you are now a friend, basically means access; access to exclusive organizations, clubs, restaurants, schools, neighborhoods, political and social positions, etc. These are the kinds of things that money can’t buy directly but obviously necessitate money.[8] Why the world works this way remains a mystery to me as much as it probably does to you.

And with that power comes the theater of the elite. I can feign interest in world affairs, pretend to develop a palette for fine wine, and act like I actually enjoy the mind numbing conversation of the conservative, Anglo-Saxon, brat next to me explaining how it’s not his[9] responsibility to provide for poor because if they “only saved more” then this wouldn’t be a problem.[10] Of course I will be doing this where else but the finest, most private establishments my greedy, little feet can burst into.

But I leave you, dear reader, at an unfortunately confusing pass yet again. After all, I seem to disdain the privilege I will spend all this time amassing. What then, one wonders, is the point? It cannot be mere ennui. It cannot be ironic. And it cannot be inevitability. These reasons seem too French and I love America too much. So we turn to the final section in this little essay.


Part 3: Then Comes the Women.[11]

Do you hate me dearest reader and affectionate friend? After all of this, it comes down to sex. But what can I say? If one says they go to Columbia Law, that they make over 6 figures, and that they know someone at the such-and-such Yacht Club[12] then they are guaranteed a night of transitory love. And what love is better than that which lasts a night and ends at daybreak?

Ultimately I want something interesting and valuable. I am not shallow. It’s the women that are shallow. I love them each and every one at least as much as I love myself.[13] And I want to break through that shallow exterior into the depths that underlie each gorgeous pair of legs. That is to say, I want to get to know them, if only briefly. And as any biblical scholar will tell you, to be intimate is to know. One can know everything really. But unfortunately the most beautiful girls, the ones with the most slender curves, the flattest bellies, the hardest legs and the softest facial features, that is to say, the interesting ones, require one to play an absurd game.

Is that cruel to say? Not all women are so shallow. But those that can be often are. Some women desire merely strength or smarts. But they too do not interest me. Either insecure or worse: intellectual. Intellectual women bore me. They speak and this kills everything for both of us. My ego and I have a very personal relationship when it comes to discussing anything at all and we don’t like the banalities of estrogen interfering. And so when it does, ego and I can get quite unpleasant.

It is the beautiful ones that interest me, that inspire and entice me. Not just the beautiful ones but also the ones that know that they do not want anything out of a man – not even pleasure. They want material wealth; they want the world and they simply use what skills they have to get it.[14] Naturally one speculates on and wants to understand what they do not possess, do not know and do not understand. And so beauty, raw and physical, is all I want in a woman because I want to understand it.[15] The aesthetic nature of the bosom, the buttock and the calf, to me, are at least as interesting as truth and freedom are to the amateur philosopher (who has not discovered that everything he does and says is a waste). And with each woman comes more knowledge of beauty and pleasure. The cost of this knowledge in turn can be reduced to a mere 3 years and some tuition payments.

And so money, power, sex, love and beauty: that is why I want to go to Columbia Law School. Thank you dear reader. You have been absolutely lovely. I do appreciate your time and patience in bearing with me. Let’s ignore our secular duties for a moment[16]: God knows that I have loved every minute of your company as I’m sure you have loved every minute of mine. And so thank you again and Good-Bye. Ciao. Bon Voyage. Shalom.[17] Kisses.[18]


[1] If you have seen Scarface you can guess the conclusion of this essay and jump down to part 3 or perhaps even just skip this all together: I assure you it’s nothing but an ironic attempt at uniqueness in a genre [the college personal statement] where uniqueness is dead and irony is more cliché than cliché itself.
[2] I hope you don’t mind the affectation—I’ve just been reading Tolstoy. And just to be sure, I’m not trying to impress you; rather, picking up girls at Michigan’s undergraduate orientation is easy if one plays up the smooth, intellectual-type card. Inasmuch, I got bored in front of the library and actually read the book I was holding. Really, truly, honestly vile stuff: totally self-indulgent dribble from a Russian writer consumed in excess that sought misery to assuage some Romantic intuitions about absolutely nothing in the end.
[3] If that struck even the remotest chord it’s because you recognize it as a brilliant literary reference to Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Copyright 1987.
[4] This is an example of poor writing on my part: One should never enumerate in-paragraph unless they don’t add predicates to the enumerated subjects because it gets jarring, confusing and it corrupts the structure. One also shouldn’t add footnotes to try and cover up for poor writing: it’s cheap, tawdry, pretentious and indulgent. I’ll fit right in, won’t I?
[5] Inasmuch as a system of justice can still exist or does still exist or has ever existed. To be sure, again, I’m not trying to impress upon you that I’m some pathetic Zinn-reading, Village-strolling, Ginsberg-wannabe. I.e., I don’t maintain that we’re in some Foucault inspired totalizing dystopia nor that some sinister forefathers did everything in their power to screw us all over. Rather, I think it’s all theater, theater, theater and ego, ego, ego.
[6] That’s really the best I have. Forgive me and I’ll make it up to you later?
[7] Kind reader, I suggest you quickly review the economic concepts of labor-leisure trade off and the back bending supply curve. Follow this with a quick read over on decreasing marginal returns. Without these two crucial concepts I’m afraid the last sentence’s power will be lost on you. Admittedly I explained little and that is not my fault—I am the victim of spatial constraints.
[8] At least to some extent: money cannot compensate for poor pedigree but sometimes a pedigree can accomplish the vice versa. Missus Blanche DuBois serves canonically here.
[9] This might be the best time to mention that I am well aware of my use gendered pronouns. I can assure you, however, that is quite intentional and not mere habit. I am well aware that women can be lawyers too. But power? Let’s not kid ourselves. Joking! How anachronistic of me. Unfortunately we don’t have a set of pronouns for the subset of women who stick to pant suits and the sort of indignant ill-humor that will ensure the only man they land will have the spine of an amoeba (or the fidelity of Don Juan). And so I use male pronouns liberally.
[10] One might mistake this last sentence for a bit of enmity towards the elite and empathy with the poor. Nothing could be further from the truth: I only find the total bastardization of economic theory by the “Economics 101 Elites” a tad annoying. Personally, I don’t think the poor are my responsibility because I am not poor.
[11] A few casual friends (and thus self-appointed editors and critics) have suggested that the next section loses some of the wittier, oomphier, crasser banter of the preceding sections. Apologies. Apparently variety and meaningful apogee play second fiddle to jokes about class and brains. On the other hand, the misogyny, I’ve been told, surpasses the line of satire. Swift and I will be dining on babies together in Hell, I fear.
[12] At long last, my own Midwestern, middle class and mediocre upbringing sheepishly surfaces. I confess ignorance! Where do the rich and powerful hang out in the City? My images remain firmly entrenched in the archaic descriptions of Fitzgerald and Salinger. And so yet another benefit of Columbia Law School rears its head—at long last I can begin my training for entry into the culture of the spoiled, the undeserving and the entitled.
[13] Exercise: Using the clues provided in this essay, determine how much this writer and candidate loves himself.
[14] To avoid making this any longer I will reproduce a simple enough analogy. Venus : Beauty :: Hilary Clinton : Force of will :: Madame Curie : Genius :: A handyman : a hammer. What difference does it make what endowment is used to achieve the same end?
[15] For those who missed out on the subtle inference – I consider myself quite unattractive and easily attainable. It’s true; in the realm of physiognomy I am as insecure as a thirteen year old trying a cigarette for the first time. I use parody and humor to compensate. Then I dryly and blandly make ironic self-referential statements about it. Then I point out my bland irony to compensate for my lack of originality. This goes on and on, much like a certain, popular Sherry Lewis song.
[16] But for only a moment! Serious faith in God is the only true sin. Lest we end up like those boorish Southerners! We use money to separate ourselves from the Wretched of the Earth, but we would never speak ill of them. That is for the compassionate Christians.
[17] Originally I had the idea of sarcastically saying goodbye in as many languages as possible and making this list go on for the remainder of this page. Luckily I realized that (A) this is stupid, (B) this is a waste of both our time and (C) I know how to say Good-Bye in about 4 languages. So you’re welcome dear reader—that was my last favor to you.
[18] Writing tip: one should hope the final footnote is as clever and memorable as the rest. Otherwise a sour taste is left in the mouth of the reader. This, then, is an example of what not to do.

[Always Credited]

Disclaimer: The formatting on this essay is not optimal. Because of the forum's restrictions the footnotes come out rather crudely, the typesetting is weak, and the formatting (italics, etc.) is all gone. Forgive these aesthetic discrepancies please. Thanks.

Why I Want to Go to Columbia Law School: An Essay in Three Parts by [Redacted – Candidate ####]:


“Greed is Good” – Gordon Gekko


Part 1: First Comes the Money. [1]

I want to go to Columbia Law School for one reason plain and simple: I want money. I don’t think this should come as yeahany surprise to you my gracious reader.[2] After all, if I wanted to be a judge then this would read “Why I Want to Go to Yale Law.” If I wanted to help some poor, suffering urchins that cling to the bottom of the American Industrial Steamship then I would probably either (A) not be going to law school and instead go to a Sociology Master’s Program so that I could spend the next 8 years pissing and moaning to (who else but!) lawyers about how no one actually does anything for these poor, unfortunate souls (so sad; so true)[3] or[4] (B) go to a worse law school that would give me a scholarship because I’m sure I could out-compete the low lives at a Michigan or a Texas and then still land a comfy little position with the SPLC.

So, as I was saying, I want to go to Columbia mostly to secure a nice job at a prestigious firm in order to maximize my earnings. The average salary coming out of Columbia is easily going to break 150,000 and will have benefits including, but not limited to: overtime pay, free lunches and dinners, car rides home, discounts at gyms (if not a free gym), vacation time and an excuse to wear clothing that serves no purpose to this day other than to remind us that we are the elite and they (oh that proverbial they!) in their clearance rack Polos and Izod slacks are nothing but the filth clinging to the tire treads on my BMW 7 series. All I have to do for this money is endure 3 years of lectures that pretend to teach me ‘theory’ about a ‘system’ of ‘justice.’[5] Then I just sit around in an air-conditioned building and do fairly mindless research for however many hours a week. If I might add at this point, and I don’t put this in a footnote to stress its relevance: the idea that lawyers work hard because they work a lot is an absurdity and logical fallacy which these spoiled children of divorcees and adulterers seem to revel in. I, however, don’t live under this illusion (blatant egotism darling) and so don’t consider the circumstances of the post-law-school-grad particularly dire.

In conclusion, [6] dear reader, I simply want wealth. But why? I have been happy with what I’ve had. What benefit will a more luxurious car or nicer clothing give me? It seems that taking on exponentially more work (in units of time) for presumably marginally better goods (in units of extra luxury) would defy economic intuition.[7] So from whence does money’s utility stem? Well for that we turn to the next section.


Part 2: Then Comes the Power.

To answer the question of “why money?” we need to look at power and social power projection in the United States of America. I went to Michigan for undergraduate study and so, in the grand tradition of Tom Hayden, you can appreciate how much of this was crammed down my throat. I learned one important thing: I am already white; I am already male; I am already a heterosexual. Life sucks for the rest, but as long as I add wealth to the preceding list, I can compensate for the hooknose (God of Abraham; follow?) and attain power.

Columbia Law School would uniquely position me to attain power. But what’s power? Power, my friend, for you are now a friend, basically means access; access to exclusive organizations, clubs, restaurants, schools, neighborhoods, political and social positions, etc. These are the kinds of things that money can’t buy directly but obviously necessitate money.[8] Why the world works this way remains a mystery to me as much as it probably does to you.

And with that power comes the theater of the elite. I can feign interest in world affairs, pretend to develop a palette for fine wine, and act like I actually enjoy the mind numbing conversation of the conservative, Anglo-Saxon, brat next to me explaining how it’s not his[9] responsibility to provide for poor because if they “only saved more” then this wouldn’t be a problem.[10] Of course I will be doing this where else but the finest, most private establishments my greedy, little feet can burst into.

But I leave you, dear reader, at an unfortunately confusing pass yet again. After all, I seem to disdain the privilege I will spend all this time amassing. What then, one wonders, is the point? It cannot be mere ennui. It cannot be ironic. And it cannot be inevitability. These reasons seem too French and I love America too much. So we turn to the final section in this little essay.


Part 3: Then Comes the Women.[11]

Do you hate me dearest reader and affectionate friend? After all of this, it comes down to sex. But what can I say? If one says they go to Columbia Law, that they make over 6 figures, and that they know someone at the such-and-such Yacht Club[12] then they are guaranteed a night of transitory love. And what love is better than that which lasts a night and ends at daybreak?

Ultimately I want something interesting and valuable. I am not shallow. It’s the women that are shallow. I love them each and every one at least as much as I love myself.[13] And I want to break through that shallow exterior into the depths that underlie each gorgeous pair of legs. That is to say, I want to get to know them, if only briefly. And as any biblical scholar will tell you, to be intimate is to know. One can know everything really. But unfortunately the most beautiful girls, the ones with the most slender curves, the flattest bellies, the hardest legs and the softest facial features, that is to say, the interesting ones, require one to play an absurd game.

Is that cruel to say? Not all women are so shallow. But those that can be often are. Some women desire merely strength or smarts. But they too do not interest me. Either insecure or worse: intellectual. Intellectual women bore me. They speak and this kills everything for both of us. My ego and I have a very personal relationship when it comes to discussing anything at all and we don’t like the banalities of estrogen interfering. And so when it does, ego and I can get quite unpleasant.

It is the beautiful ones that interest me, that inspire and entice me. Not just the beautiful ones but also the ones that know that they do not want anything out of a man – not even pleasure. They want material wealth; they want the world and they simply use what skills they have to get it.[14] Naturally one speculates on and wants to understand what they do not possess, do not know and do not understand. And so beauty, raw and physical, is all I want in a woman because I want to understand it.[15] The aesthetic nature of the bosom, the buttock and the calf, to me, are at least as interesting as truth and freedom are to the amateur philosopher (who has not discovered that everything he does and says is a waste). And with each woman comes more knowledge of beauty and pleasure. The cost of this knowledge in turn can be reduced to a mere 3 years and some tuition payments.

And so money, power, sex, love and beauty: that is why I want to go to Columbia Law School. Thank you dear reader. You have been absolutely lovely. I do appreciate your time and patience in bearing with me. Let’s ignore our secular duties for a moment[16]: God knows that I have loved every minute of your company as I’m sure you have loved every minute of mine. And so thank you again and Good-Bye. Ciao. Bon Voyage. Shalom.[17] Kisses.[18]


[1] If you have seen Scarface you can guess the conclusion of this essay and jump down to part 3 or perhaps even just skip this all together: I assure you it’s nothing but an ironic attempt at uniqueness in a genre [the college personal statement] where uniqueness is dead and irony is more cliché than cliché itself.
[2] I hope you don’t mind the affectation—I’ve just been reading Tolstoy. And just to be sure, I’m not trying to impress you; rather, picking up girls at Michigan’s undergraduate orientation is easy if one plays up the smooth, intellectual-type card. Inasmuch, I got bored in front of the library and actually read the book I was holding. Really, truly, honestly vile stuff: totally self-indulgent dribble from a Russian writer consumed in excess that sought misery to assuage some Romantic intuitions about absolutely nothing in the end.
[3] If that struck even the remotest chord it’s because you recognize it as a brilliant literary reference to Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Copyright 1987.
[4] This is an example of poor writing on my part: One should never enumerate in-paragraph unless they don’t add predicates to the enumerated subjects because it gets jarring, confusing and it corrupts the structure. One also shouldn’t add footnotes to try and cover up for poor writing: it’s cheap, tawdry, pretentious and indulgent. I’ll fit right in, won’t I?
[5] Inasmuch as a system of justice can still exist or does still exist or has ever existed. To be sure, again, I’m not trying to impress upon you that I’m some pathetic Zinn-reading, Village-strolling, Ginsberg-wannabe. I.e., I don’t maintain that we’re in some Foucault inspired totalizing dystopia nor that some sinister forefathers did everything in their power to screw us all over. Rather, I think it’s all theater, theater, theater and ego, ego, ego.
[6] That’s really the best I have. Forgive me and I’ll make it up to you later?
[7] Kind reader, I suggest you quickly review the economic concepts of labor-leisure trade off and the back bending supply curve. Follow this with a quick read over on decreasing marginal returns. Without these two crucial concepts I’m afraid the last sentence’s power will be lost on you. Admittedly I explained little and that is not my fault—I am the victim of spatial constraints.
[8] At least to some extent: money cannot compensate for poor pedigree but sometimes a pedigree can accomplish the vice versa. Missus Blanche DuBois serves canonically here.
[9] This might be the best time to mention that I am well aware of my use gendered pronouns. I can assure you, however, that is quite intentional and not mere habit. I am well aware that women can be lawyers too. But power? Let’s not kid ourselves. Joking! How anachronistic of me. Unfortunately we don’t have a set of pronouns for the subset of women who stick to pant suits and the sort of indignant ill-humor that will ensure the only man they land will have the spine of an amoeba (or the fidelity of Don Juan). And so I use male pronouns liberally.
[10] One might mistake this last sentence for a bit of enmity towards the elite and empathy with the poor. Nothing could be further from the truth: I only find the total bastardization of economic theory by the “Economics 101 Elites” a tad annoying. Personally, I don’t think the poor are my responsibility because I am not poor.
[11] A few casual friends (and thus self-appointed editors and critics) have suggested that the next section loses some of the wittier, oomphier, crasser banter of the preceding sections. Apologies. Apparently variety and meaningful apogee play second fiddle to jokes about class and brains. On the other hand, the misogyny, I’ve been told, surpasses the line of satire. Swift and I will be dining on babies together in Hell, I fear.
[12] At long last, my own Midwestern, middle class and mediocre upbringing sheepishly surfaces. I confess ignorance! Where do the rich and powerful hang out in the City? My images remain firmly entrenched in the archaic descriptions of Fitzgerald and Salinger. And so yet another benefit of Columbia Law School rears its head—at long last I can begin my training for entry into the culture of the spoiled, the undeserving and the entitled.
[13] Exercise: Using the clues provided in this essay, determine how much this writer and candidate loves himself.
[14] To avoid making this any longer I will reproduce a simple enough analogy. Venus : Beauty :: Hilary Clinton : Force of will :: Madame Curie : Genius :: A handyman : a hammer. What difference does it make what endowment is used to achieve the same end?
[15] For those who missed out on the subtle inference – I consider myself quite unattractive and easily attainable. It’s true; in the realm of physiognomy I am as insecure as a thirteen year old trying a cigarette for the first time. I use parody and humor to compensate. Then I dryly and blandly make ironic self-referential statements about it. Then I point out my bland irony to compensate for my lack of originality. This goes on and on, much like a certain, popular Sherry Lewis song.
[16] But for only a moment! Serious faith in God is the only true sin. Lest we end up like those boorish Southerners! We use money to separate ourselves from the Wretched of the Earth, but we would never speak ill of them. That is for the compassionate Christians.
[17] Originally I had the idea of sarcastically saying goodbye in as many languages as possible and making this list go on for the remainder of this page. Luckily I realized that (A) this is stupid, (B) this is a waste of both our time and (C) I know how to say Good-Bye in about 4 languages. So you’re welcome dear reader—that was my last favor to you.
[18] Writing tip: one should hope the final footnote is as clever and memorable as the rest. Otherwise a sour taste is left in the mouth of the reader. This, then, is an example of what not to do.

If you send to this a law school of any kind, I literally pray for your soul.

[lawlover829]

HAHAHAHAHAHA

+1 with the above.

[Helmholtz]

[lawlover829]

OP: is this a joke or are you serious?

[Helmholtz]

OP: is this a joke or are you serious?

It seems to be a very obvious satire.

[OperaSoprano]

Oh my god, it's done. Deneuve posted the first part, and I practically begged her for the rest of it, but she said it was a work in progress. Saving this right now...

If you are the author, you have my commendation, sir.

This will also be retained to stop my classmates from flirting with the Columbians. One of them is a serious repeat offender. You know who you are, dear friend. >

[Belili]

[lawlover829]

OP: is this a joke or are you serious?

It seems to be a very obvious satire.

just checking... there has been some wierd posts on tls.... remember the long FOB post? I thought that was a joke at first!!!

[Kant]

"In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women."

Btw that was pretty shitty satire.

[NewDay]

Looks good, no edits necessary, send it off.

[casper13]

I bow down. Pure genius.

[LawandOrder]

It all started with a simple children's toy. Couldn't be more innocent than that, right? That was the thought process of the gentlemen of Delta Tau Delta when we decided to have a “Slip 'n Slide Night” for our recruitment week. Something fun, care-free, and (since it was 90 degrees outside) ultimately just something to cool us down. Who would have thought that it would have fired so many other people up? But I am getting ahead of myself. I am a long-standing member of Delta Tau Delta fraternity, and also have the unofficial title of “recruitment guru”. From the time I was a pledge I helped execute the best recruitment program at the University of Northern Colorado. We took recruitment week from simple house tours and BBQ's to full out Carnival Days and Casino Nights (complete with Craps tables, and Roulette wheels). Unfortunately not every event can be a sure-fire winner, and we have had less than ideal events, as well including Oil Wrestling with the UNC Dance Team. Oil. It was from oil that a new rule for fraternity recruitment was born. “Women are not to be used in a sexually explicit manner.” We, of course, had no problem with this because we had only that one event that involved women at all, and normally kept our recruitment events to higher standard. Now, this new rule was meant to only punish my fraternity but it seemed that other houses were also involved in slightly inappropriate events as well and had to abide by their own new rule. Between the new “chastity” rule and hitting the highest recruitment numbers at UNC for 4 years in a row, you could say that we were not the most popular on campus with the other fraternity houses. How does this all effect me? It all started with oil.

The newest recruitment chairman, who just happened to be my assistant the year prior, was hungry for another year on top of the recruitment ladder. We had won awards for the last 4 years, and he didn't want to be the one to stop that. Together we created a flawless execution of flyers, recruitment shirts, and events that would entice the whole campus community, not just those interested in Greek life. We had over 200 people at our first event which involved dunk tanks, pie eating, free food, and the Ultimate Slip 'n Slide. Made from 50 feet of rubberized tarp with a garden hose running the water we had created the biggest Slip 'n Slide I had ever seen. Then it happened; someone decided to be a genius and pour bottles of baby oil on the slide in order to make people “slide better”. It, almost ironically, was a slippery slope from there and we soon had 50 girls in their bathing suits slipping and sliding up and down the lawn outside the DTD house. We made it through the night, and everything seemed to be going swimmingly. We had not been lectured by the Greek Advisor, nor had anyone shut us down. We had 50 names of future members to continue recruiting and it seemed as though we had dodged a bullet.

“We would like Delta Tau Delta to be suspended from recruitment activities for the following 2 semesters, including being unable to initiate any members this semester.” That was the statement given by a member of another prominent fraternity on campus. The house shall remain nameless to protect the guilty. Our rival house asking that we be taken out of the recruitment equation would mean significant increases in future members for them, and almost certain death (of the house) for us. Apparently there was a member of this house that had driven by the DTD house in order to see how many people we had “stolen” from their numbers. They saw beautiful girls sliding down our lawn in bikini's and decided to take a report straight to the Inter-fraternity Council; the governing body of fraternity life. Our President asked for a weeks time in which to prepare an answer for their grievance and we had one week in which to save our recruitment, and thus save DTD.

This is where I come in. Our President came to me and asked that I defend our position that we broke no rules during our recruitment event, and I gladly obliged. You may be asking yourself, “Why would he ask you to defend the fraternity? Couldn't he easily do the job himself?”. As I mentioned earlier I was known in the fraternity as the “recruitment guru”, but I also had another unofficial “title” that I am almost significantly more proud of. I can get out of anything. I have always been a highly vocal person within my fraternity and allowed myself to be the punching bag for many of the other members ill-suited vendettas and petty misunderstandings. I allowed this because I currently hold the record for most disciplinary write-ups within my fraternity, and the least amount of punishment given. I research for hours in old fraternity by-laws, and read 100's of pages of fraternity Constitution that most of the members did not even know existed. I call in witnesses, and collect written testimony relieving me of any wrong-doing. I found the “loop-hole” within our by-laws that allowed for a member that is currently not enrolled in the University to remain active in the chapter, (I became quite ill and was forced to withdraw from all classes, but thats another story) and most of the current rules and regulations were co-authored by me so that others would be unable to get away with the drastic misrepresentations of what was actually written versus what was obviously meant to be written. I was the guy that could figure out how to get us out of the problem we were facing. I was appointed “Legal Counsel for the Delta Tau Delta Fraternity”.

Do you know the legal definition of “sexually explicit”? I do, and so do all of the members of the Inter-Fraternity Council. It involves words and phrases I think best left out of an essay I am hoping will kick-start my law school application, but I will say that if you ever need to see a 21 year old football player blush, try it. After reading the definition there was absolute silence. These were the members of the fraternity community that had significant “moral” (though, obviously other reasons were in play) problems with the “elicit” acts performed on the lawns on the Delta Tau Delta house and they were silent. Eventually there were arguments against the legal definition which were immediately disregarded as they had no relevance. I spoke again on the nature of our events being purely child-like, and that they oil was simply a conductor to increase speed and had no bearing on a sexual nature of the event. I spoke, and spoke. I answered question after question with ease, because I had prepared myself for each and every discerning opinion. In the end we were given the opportunity to re-write the current by-law for the following semesters, and no punishment was given. We had done nothing wrong, and we knew that from the beginning. Delta Tau Delta would live on.

After speaking with many people about my law school application most felt that I should try to shy away from my fraternity life, and focus on something else good, or honorable that I had done in my life that had brought me to my love of the law. I told them that the fraternity was one of the biggest influences in my life, and it taught me things that no simple club or other organization could teach me. Politics, and rules live within us everyday and define the things that we do. Either you play by someone else's definition of the rules, or you better understand them to live your life the way you should. I have always been one to better understand the rules around me, and believe that I was made to argue for myself and others for a better life. I was born to be an attorney, and I hope that with your help and your University that I will become the best one that I can be.


There are issues that I need addressed as well, but didn't want to destroy my story with information that wasn't relevant. I wanted to address my missed year of school, and subsequent drop in GPA. I have a heart condition that was discovered early in my junior year, and effected me throughout the year. I have a hole in my heart that effects many other things in my body, including my respiration, energy levels, and physical well-being. I was forced to withdraw from my classes for one semester, and while I tried to continue the semester following it didn't work out. I took very few credits, and was still unable to make it to class often enough to perform the caliber of work that my professors were used to. I am an A and B student, and the grades reflected have stemmed from this physical condition as well as a severe depression that seems to have exposed itself due to this heart problem. I no longer have any symptoms from the heart condition and intend to follow up with doctors as I continue my career in law school, and I have been seeing a Psychiatrist regularly to help with my depression. I feel that I will be able to give my complete and total commitment to the study of the law, and I hope you can look past the poor marks that are surely not a complete representation of who I really am. I also would like to make it known that California is my home, and I wish very much to return to it. I was raised here, and I intend to spend the span of my life contributing to the professional and social worlds of California that are unmatched by any other state.

[Baruch Hume]

Nice Wall Street and Scarface references.

[dextermorgan]

Epic.